


A Really Stupid Idea

by M4R4N14MH



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels Have No Set Gender, Beelzebub in a dress, Definite Mpreg, Demon Summoning, Demonic Ritual, Demons have no set Gender, Gabriel asked them to, Genderfluid Beelzebub (Good Omens), Humans are morons, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Mpreg, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Multi, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Nice Gabriel, Protective Beelzebub, it's cute, shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M4R4N14MH/pseuds/M4R4N14MH
Summary: Well, when you find a book containing details on how to summon a demon you have to start somewhere.Perhaps starting with a Prince of Hell may have been a mistake.





	A Really Stupid Idea

“Sam, this isn’t a good idea…”

“Shut it, Jay. This is a brilliant fucking idea.”

Simon shook his head in quiet disbelief. He didn’t want to be here. ‘Here’ being this abandoned church rather than just ‘here’ in general. Not that he would mind much if he just disintegrated but wishing rarely worked.

Unless, of course, you decided to summon a demon to fulfil the wishes for you.

And not just any demon, for who was better qualified to summon a Prince of Hell than three amateur occultist college kids who’d managed to get hold of a genuine occult book just two days before. The book looked ridiculously old and half of it was indecipherable but Sam (somehow) had managed to translate a page about demon summoning and had decided, in his great teenage wisdom, that they should try summoning a Prince of Hell called Beelzebub. Simon had thought that had been one of the Devil’s names but apparently not.

So here they were in an abandoned church with the windows boarded up whilst Sam busied himself with a stick of chalk and a photocopied picture of a pentagram. It was nearly finished and Simon was starting to seriously regret answering his phone three hours earlier.

Jay was the more willing accomplice of the pair, but he still seemed slightly apprehensive as they both watched Sam chalk weird squiggly symbols into the worn wood of the alter floor. If Sam felt any sort of worry he was very good at hiding it as he defiantly chalked the last symbol down and leapt to his feet with far too much gusto for what they were trying to do. Simon wasn’t very religious, but he was quite superstitious and he’d rather, all things considered, they not accidentally summon an angry spirit whose rest they’d disturbed.

When he’d brought it up at the beginning of this monumentally stupid endeavour his fears had, as usual, been ignored.

They weren’t at all helped when Sam drew a small pocketknife from his jacket.

“The fuck is that for?” Jay asked in lieu of Simon since the latter’s mouth had, unfortunately, just glued itself shut.

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, “It’s a _demonic summoning_, you moron. These kinda things need blood to work. I’ve seen it in tons of movies and,” He pointed to the book sitting guiltily atop a dusty pew, “The book says that the summoner must sacrifice their blood for it to work. And since you two pussies are too scared to help, I’ll just have to do it.”

Simon very much wanted to argue that Sam’s translation of the old book was probably way off, but the aforementioned glue had still not vacated so he just stood there, unmoving, as Sam rolled up his sleeve. One quick swipe later a few scarlet drops splattered into the centre of the pentagram as Sam hastily slapped a plaster onto the cut. Then, snatching up the book, he started chanting in rather broken Latin, continuously repeating the phrase ‘_Princeps Daemonum, vel muscas a Domino_’ amidst a ton of other vaguely impressive sounding gibberish.

Simon was wishing he was back home, maybe trying his luck at another of his mother’s casserole recipes, when the pentagram suddenly burst into vibrant red flames. Sam yelped and leapt back as did Jay, both stepping a few paces away, but Simon was frozen to the spot.

It was a prank, it had to be. Sam and Jay were just messing with him like usual and any moment now they’d start laughing at his terrified expression.

Except neither of them did. When Simon looked over, both boys looked like they’d just been privy to an extremely gruesome murder. And the pentagram was still burning.

With a rather anti-climactic pop the flames disappeared revealing a rather petite figure in black. The lighting was almost ethereal; with the glow from the moon illuminating the top of the figure in silver and the still burning edges of the pentagram illuminating the lower half a deep burnished red. Then-

“What in the abzzolute fuck?” Came a buzzing and just slightly feminine voice. Blinking away the spots in his vision Simon saw something that made him blink even harder just in case he was hallucinating. A woman stood in the pentagram’s centre swathed in a flowing black dress with black elbow-length gloves and an orange lily in her perfectly styled black hair. A small silver brooch in the shape of a fly was pinned over her left breast and a red sash encircled her waist.

Sam was the first one to break the stunned silence, “Beelzebub? Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies?” God only knew how he didn’t stammer.

The woman narrowed her pale blue eyes, “Yezz, that would be me. The fuck do you want? I wazz in the middle of zzzomething important.”

Jay whimpered and quietly fainted. Beelzebub raised an eyebrow, “Not the mozzt zzzturdy of occultizzztzz are you?”

Sam stepped forward, a disturbing gleam in his eyes, “We have summoned you to do our bidding, oh mighty Prince of Hell. For you are trapped in the circle of Solomon drawn from- “

Beelzebub burst out laughing and Simon resisted the urge to cover his ears to protect them from the awful screeching noise this woman/demon was making. Eventually she calmed down enough to leer at Sam threateningly.

“You’re amuzzing, I’ll give you that. There hazzn’t been a good Circle of Zzolomon zzince the old bazztard himzzelf karked it. Zzo why don’t we juzzt zzzkip the pretentiouzzz drama. What do you want?”

Sam did a pretty good imitation of a goldfish for several moments before he found his voice. The moment he did Simon really, really wished he hadn’t. Was the guy insane? A yacht? Seriously? They lived in the middle of the city, the fuck did he want with a yacht?

Beelzebub stood for a while, watching Sam reel off his list of demands with a tiny amused smile playing across their red-painted lips. Right when Sam started asking for several models of Ferrari, she raised a gloved hand and his voice cut off like he’d been put on pause.

“You’re zzeriouzzly overezztimating the worth of that rotten thing you call a zzoul but I’ll zzee what I can do. What about you?” She pointed a black-clad finger at Simon who nearly jumped out of his skin.

“W-what?”

The demon rolled her eyes, “You. Cultizzt with the big glazzzez. What. Do. You. Want?”

“Oh, erm. I-I haven’t really thought about it. This… This wasn’t really my i-idea.”

He braced for that horrible screeching laughter again, but Beelzebub just stared at him intently, a flicker of something odd in her gaze, it almost looked like pity. With a shrug of her shoulders she stepped over the supposedly secure circle, much to Sam’s horror, and stood directly in front of Simon. He didn’t dare move. This close he could smell her, but it wasn’t sulphur or rot he could smell- in fact she smelled almost like… lavender?

“You don’t want anything, do you?” The question was clearly rhetorical, and Simon kept his mouth shut, “No, you’re a tricky one...”

She glanced down at his chest and grinned, “Zzimon.” Shit he was still wearing his work clothes with that stupid name tag. Demons could use names, couldn’t they? Could the universe hate him much more?

She shrugged again and stepped back inside the pentagram, “You don’t have to tell me, Zzimon, I know what you want. And zzince you were clearly roped into thizz I’ll waive the zzoul thing. Conzzider it a one-time deal, zzzince I’m feeling generouzz, but your friend…” She glanced over at Sam, who suddenly seemed to realise exactly what he’d done if his paling face was anything to go by, and her smile looked much too sharp for Simon’s liking, “Well, he’ll get exactly what he wantzz.”

The pentagram began to burn again, and Beelzebub gave them both one final smile and just before she disappeared, she yelled, “My fiancé will be in touch, Zzimon.”

Then she was gone.

There was a groan. At least Jay was alright.

The book was nowhere to be seen.

*******

A month later, Simon had almost forgotten about the encounter (not hard to do since he’d seen at least three therapists and had distracted himself with nearly everything under the sun), or he _had_, until the nurse announced a second visitor.

At first Simon had just been confused since his mother had never had that many friends, especially ones that would visit this late in the coma, and that confusion had only increased when what looked like an American businessman stepped smartly into the private ward. He looked so utterly out of place in his pale violet suit and it took a minute for Simon to realise the man’s eyes were also purple. He smiled wide.

“Ah yes, Simon? My fiancé sent me here. Something about a business contract?”

Simon nearly shot out of his chair. The man didn’t look very demon-y, but any mention of _that night_ sent him into panic-mode. Although he figured it might end better if he was polite about the whole thing so instead of running out of the ward, screaming, he shook hands with the ‘businessman’. The American’s smile widened a bit more.

“They said something about your mother?” He looked over at the bed appraisingly, taking in the small form under all the tubes and blankets, “Cancer, is it?”

“Erm, yeah, uhm… It’s breast cancer, spread too far to be treated properly. They…” He swallowed, “They’re taking her off life support in a week.”

The old pain flared again, the injustice of it all stung like it always had. When he looked back at the American, he was surprised to see he was still smiling.

“Well, Simon, you’re lucky you caught my fiancé in a good mood. Healing isn’t really their thing, and they did rather get distracted by the dinner after they came back, so they nearly forgot to tell me, but I happen to know a bit about miraculous healing myself.”

Simon blinked, “What did you say your name was again?”

The American blinked back, “I didn’t. But it’s Gabriel.”

Simon couldn’t really say much to that. In fact, his brain had sort of short-circuited.

He didn’t really notice when Gabriel started snapping his fingers, somehow systematically removing the various tubes and wires from his mother’s body until he could finally see her underneath it all. He was barely cognisant of Gabriel leaning over the bed and pressing a single digit into his mother’s chest and he was obviously unaware of the rabid tumour being blasted from existence and replaced with completely healthy tissue.

When his brain finally did reboot and come back online Gabriel was standing next to him once more and his mother was blinking up at the both of them, looking fairly confused.

“Well,” Gabriel said, jovially, “I haven’t done that in a while, felt good.”

He placed a warm hand on Simon’s shoulder, and it was a miracle he didn’t leap out of his own skin.

“But listen, buddy, don’t try and summon my fiancé again, okay? They won’t like it. Believe me. They’re plenty busy with the pregnancy, don’t need you humans calling them every which way. Its dreadfully tiring.”

Finally, something registered just as Gabriel was leaving, “W-wait!”

He paused with his hand on the door handle, “Hm?”

“What about Sam?” Simon wasn’t entirely sure why he was asking but his ‘friend’ had stopped answering his calls about two weeks ago and despite himself he was starting to worry, “Your fiancé didn’t… eat him, did she?”

Gabriel’s smile returned, “Oh no, they don’t eat people. Sam just got arrested for having hundreds of millions of pounds worth of stolen luxury items in his back garden. He’ll get out in about three years. Should teach him for meddling with demonic rituals.” He turned back to the door.

Simon wanted to call out again.

This was Gabriel! An Archangel! There were so many things he wanted to know...

His mother beat him to it.

“Your wife is pregnant, dear? That’s wonderful! Congratulations!” Of course, that had been what she’d picked up from the conversation, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel even slightly irritated.

Gabriel turned back around, and Simon noticed his hand gently patting his own stomach, almost absentmindedly. “Something like that. Now,” He said as he turned around to finally open the door, “I’ve got to go. They’ll be starting to worry and I’d really rather not miracle Aziraphale’s bookshop back in one piece again. I’ll see you around, ciao!”

And with that he left the room, leaving a not inconsiderably confused college student alone with his miraculously cancer-free mother who stared at the door for a few seconds before turning to him with a bemused grin.

“That was Italian, wasn’t it dear? Means food, I think.”

Simon knew it didn’t but as he hugged his mother for the first time in eight years, he thought that perhaps it didn’t really matter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first GO fanfic I've posted... ever.  
I wrote this because I was bored and I made myself giggle in class when the idea first wormed its way into my brain.  
This fandom has finally forced me back into writing fanfiction and it is glorious!
> 
> On a side note, this was also to distract me from the absolutely GARGANTUAN monster of a GO fanfic I've got in the works. Seriously that thing is bigger than ANYTHING else I've written and I only hope when I finally allow that beast to rear its head it won't suddenly reveal my terribly inept writing skills. Although my Beta would argue strenulously against that because they're a much more positive person than I am.  
Anyway, hope you've enjoyed this little fic, bye!


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